


A Peril of a Fashion

by astraplain



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 22:19:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4722452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraplain/pseuds/astraplain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Be wary of friends offering fashion advice</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Peril of a Fashion

**Author's Note:**

> Posting older works.

Beverly was standing half naked among the ruins of her closet when the door chime sounded. Annoyed, she demanded who was outside her door. The obliging computer informed her it was Counselor Deanna Troi.

*Wonderful* she huffed with more than a little sarcasm. Knowing Deanna would keep chiming that dratted bell until she got in, Beverly surrendered to the inevitable. Slipping on her robe she strolled at a leisurely pace out to the day area, stopping to check her plants on the way. Retrieving a drink from the replicator she finally called for Deanna to enter.

"That was not very nice, Beverly." Deanna chided, softening the remark with a smile. "You know you aren't getting out of this conversation so why bother playing these games?"

"Because," Beverly replied with a cat-like smile, taking a seat on the sofa opposite her friend. Deanna really was a good friend, and she was just trying to help; Beverly knew that. But she also knew that Deanna could be downright annoying at times, especially when her friendly counseling was as ill-timed as this. The last two days on Kes-Prytt had forced her to endure more than enough telepathic intrusion. She didn't need Deanna tiptoeing through her head too.

"I have no intention of tiptoeing through your head, Beverly. And don't scowl at me, you were thinking that so loud you might just as well be shouting." Deanna held up her hand to stop Beverly's rant. "I'm not finished yet. I merely came here to see if you wanted my help and to tell you that I will expect you in my office at 0930 tomorrow to be cleared for duty."

Beverly relaxed a little at this, happy to be able to put off till tomorrow what she really didn't want to deal with today. She had enough on her mind.

"And," Deanna continued with a wicked smile all her own. "I also came to do you a favor."

Beverly frowned again. A betazoid giving a favor was a frightening thing indeed. She weighed her words carefully then asked, "What favor?"

Deanna laughed, standing up and walking towards the open door to Beverly's bedroom. She gestured at the wreckage of the wardrobe that lay scattered within.

"I'm guessing you have a hot date with the captain tonight."

Beverly ignored the pointed remark, sweeping past Deanna into the bedroom and randomly picking up stray clothing. Keeping her face turned down she muttered, "So what's this big favor?"

"The solution to your problems," Deanna replied moving close and speaking just above a whisper. "It just so happens that I have the perfect dress for just such an occasion." She reached down, claiming a stray shirt, and waved it. "Interested?"

"I can't wear your clothes on a date, Deanna. Ummm... Jean-Luc will notice." Beverly blurted the first excuse she thought of, managing to keep a straight face, then thought *hard* about gangrene to keep from laughing.

"But you can wear this, Beverly. It's new. I've never worn it. He'll never know you borrowed it." Deanna was encouraging, eager, almost too anxious.

Beverly should have known better. Beverly *did* know better, but one last despairing look around her bedroom reminded her she had few other options. She'd already given up on the choices in ship's stores, and the challenge of designing and replicating something appropriate was too daunting a task to even consider.

"All right, Deanna. I've only got half an hour. I don't have time to replicate anything."

Tossing on a simple shirt and pants Beverly followed Deanna out into the corridor. They talked a little on the way to Deanna's cabin, keeping the topic light and as far away from Kes-Prytt as possible.

"Tadaaaaa!" Deanna presented the dress with a flourish. Beverly looked at it, arrayed on a dressmakers mannequin in the center of the day area. Just waiting for her.

"What do you think?" Deanna wanted to know.

"Its... different." Was Beverly's reply. She circled the dress - actually a gown, twice. It was the color of Kelborian mud with a tight top and wide (very wide) skirt. It was cut very high in front and trailed down almost touching the floor in back. In truth, Beverly decided, it was ghastly.

"Isn't it wonderful?" Deanna gushed, fussing with the skirt. (To make it look better?) Beverly decided it was hopeless. She knew a trap when she fell into one and this was definitely a trap.

"It's different, Deanna." A sudden sinking feeling settled in the pit of Beverly's stomach. "By any chance did your mother give you this?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Deanna asked, batting her eyelashes. Beverly bit her lip hard to keep from laughing out loud. Deanna had spent too many years flirting with men for whom grasping the obvious was a struggle. Of course, expecting subtlety from the daughter of Lwaxanna Troi might be asking too much anyway. Beverly tossed the whole absurd situation up to experience and turned her attention back to the monstrosity on the mannequin.

"Put it on, try it. The color will look marvelous on you."

There was a flurry of activity and somehow Deanna managed to get both the dress and her friend into the bedroom to change. "Here, let me help." Deanna chirped, and before she could think up a graceful excuse to run like a sehlat, Beverly was actually wearing that ... garment.

"Time for the hair." Deanna announced guiding the bemused doctor into the vanity chair. "I love your hair, Beverly, you should wear it up more often."

"Deanna, I don't think...."

"Of course you do, Beverly. Here. Perfect. Just one more...." Now, tell me the captain will be able to resist this."

Beverly studied the mirror before her not sure if she should laugh or cry. It was different, all right, and if she had been headed off to a date with Will Riker, the "easy access" hemline would be perfect. But Jean-Luc was a man of very refined tastes. She just hoped he wouldn't laugh in her face.

"Deanna, I don't think this is ..."

"No need to thank me, Beverly. This is what friends are for. In fact, this dress is so perfect on you I insist you keep it. No, no, don't thank me. Here, now you'd better hurry. You know the captain hates to be kept waiting. Remember, my office. 0930 Tomorrow. You can tell me all about your date. Bye."

Somehow Beverly suddenly found herself in the corridor facing a closed door and feeling a bit like Alice through the looking glass. Surrendering to the situation she wandered off towards Jean-Luc's cabin. *If he so much as cracks a smile...*

+++++

Deanna Troi stood just inside the doorway of her cabin shamelessly eavesdropping on her friend's thoughts. This was too perfect, she decided. Years of planning and she finally succeeded in not only dumping the hideous dress her mother had given her, but she'd also found the perfect payback for that little incident with Beverly, Will and Odan.

"This calls for a celebration." She announced to the room at large, and with a cheshire cat smile she swept off towards Ten Forward, visions of Thalian Chocolate Mousse in her head.

:::end:::


End file.
